The Austrian conductor Peter Schneider has had a career
in music extending from his time as a member of the Vienna
Boys Choir. Despite a spell as music director in Munich
he is the type of consistent journeyman conductor always,
and often, relied upon to fill in for the absence of a
more stellar colleague in opera houses from Bayreuth to
The Met. This is not meant as a criticism and here in
his home town he is highly respected having accreted a
wealth of knowledge at the Staatsoper since first conducting
there in 1984. Having replaced Donald Runnicles for Parsifal
here, in his own right, he picked up the baton for Tristan
und Isolde and conducted an expressive performance,
languid, eloquent and dramatic by turns.

Act I opens and we are on an ocean liner (sets by Gisbert
Jäkel), not of the Hollywood Titanic variety but
in the spare designs of EuroWagnerland with chairs and
a table. To stage right, and at the back, it hints at
the pump room. The stage is divided vertically and a screen
rises to reveal Kurwenal and Tristan presumably on the
deck above. Kurwenal climbs down a ladder to Isolde. Brangäne
seems much more servile than she is often portrayed. Her
best moment comes in her desire to knock over Isolde’s
death-inducing drink so that she can share the love potion
instead with Tristan.

The period it is set in is unclear, possibly early twentieth
century but definitely post-industrial revolution. This
seems clear from the costumes (by Falk Bauer) of Isolde’s
bonneted maidservant Brangäne, the faithful retainer
Kurwenal and Tristan himself. It is a case in point about
these revivals, with a number of performance and different
casts during a Vienna season, that Tristan in his rather
formal looking naval overcoat is dressed totally differently
from Thomas Moser in the pictures of the 2003 premiere.
This was now the 21st performance of this production and
even Isolde seemed ‘glammed-up’ compared to
those early photos.

At the start of Act II the suit of armour is alight centre-stage.
There is red, violet and blue light as Brangäne cautions
about Melot’s duplicity ‘vor Melot seid gewarnt’
(of Melot now beware) and Isolde now with red pashmina
is seen being escorted by him around the stage. For the
Love Duet a scrim descends and cardboard cut-out trees
rise from below stage and they sing as if in a red mist.
This is essentially a rather static event but the side-by-side
lovers replace physical fervour with the vocal kind. We
know (or we should) that in their mood of self-absorption
they will fail to heed Brangäne’s warning (‘Einsam
wachend’) and at Kurwenal’s ‘Rette dich,
Tristan’ (Save yourself, Tristan) a crack of light
appears at the back of the stage as King Marke and his
retinue enter. Tristan does his duty and falls on his
own sword brandished by Melot.

For Act III I was not certain where we were supposed to
be. Diagonally across the stage are cross beams and with
all the visible railings we could still have been on board
a ship for all three acts, as in the current Bayreuth
production. Tristan is at the front sitting at a table
clutching the red shawl. The shepherd is staring out of
one of the gaping windows at the back of the stage. For
the confrontation of Kurwenal and Melot’s men, and
Marke and Brangäne’s entrances, the singers
were often visible only from the waist up. Isolde enters
and seems almost oblivious to Tristan (now sitting in
a chair with his back to the audience) as she comes to
the footlights for the Liebestod. As usual the
audience is left wondering whether she ever arrives at
all. Significantly, a drop curtain had come down briefly
after Tristan fell to the stage before ‘he’
(or a sit in?) was revealed in the chair.

For this performance this Austrian (yet fairly cosmopolitan)
audience were hearing the Vienna State Opera Orchestra
conducted by their own Peter Schneider (the current Bayreuth
Tristan conductor) with two Americans in the leading
roles. Indeed, the centre of gravity for potential Wagner
singing talent seems to have shifted significantly westwards
across the Atlantic. Robert Dean Smith, the current Bayreuth
Tristan, was making his role debut in Vienna. He has a
fairly meek stage persona and his Tristan is occasionally
indistinguishable from his Lohengrin, Siegmund or Walther
I have heard elsewhere. He is not one to push his voice
more than necessary and this will hopefully signal a long
career in these heavier Wagner roles for this essentially
lyric tenor with his Italianate timbre and likeable personality.
His final cry of ‘Isolde!’ was heartachingly
poignant. More importantly, it sounds effortless.

Again, this was an excellent ensemble performance with
the minor roles competently sung. Brangäne was well
sung by the up-and-coming young German mezzo Daniela Denschlag.
I prefer this part portrayed more feistily, as almost
Isolde’s equal. The converse was that Peter Weber’s
Kurwenal was younger and more virile than usually is the
case. Matti Salminen returned after his Gurnemanz to reproduce
his peerless and very human(e) King Marke.

Last – but definitely not least – I come to
Deborah Polaski’s superb Isolde. She looked stunning
and was vocally secure throughout the range; she may not
have risked singing all her top notes – but why
should she? There was a genuine, classy refinement to
her performance that only comes from experience. Ms Polaski
is a consummate artist and I read recently in a review
from Berlin this Easter - where she sung the same role
(stepping in to save the performance) - that she sang
‘from her soul’. That she certainly does and
I cannot express her performance better. There was never
an ugly sound and of how many of today’s dramatic
sopranos can you say that?